


Trust Me, Like I Trust You With My Grossly Incandescent Space Lasers

by ruff_ethereal



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Riders of the Storm, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 09:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10331975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/pseuds/ruff_ethereal
Summary: To change date night up, Allura takes on the role of "gentleman" while Pidge is the "lady."





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Anonymous on tumblr.
> 
> Takes place in the "Riders of the Storm" AU.

“Maybe this was all a big mistake...” Pidge mumbled.

She realized that it was probably _far_ too late to be saying that _after_ she and Allura had gone through the trouble of sparing one of their very few allotted hours of free time in between saving the realm, dressing up (or in Allura's case, suiting up) and leaving Castle Tempest, and flying all the way to one of the fanciest restaurants in the city of Illias.

But then again, one of the keystones of the Bond between a dragon and her rider was honesty and open communication, and Shiro did tell that one of the simplest and most effective exercises was to share what you were feeling or thinking with the other.

Her dragon/girlfriend smiled warmly at her. “But maybe it's not. Shall we go and make sure?” she said, nudging her head towards the entrance to the restaurant.

Pidge frowned. “Can we bail if I get too nervous...?” she asked.

Allura feigned offense. “Why Pidge, why ever would you feel the need to ask that?” she asked.

Her tone was playful, but she could hear the concern in her voice, see what she really meant in her eyes: “Won't you please trust me, like I trust you when I lend you the power of my grossly incandescent space lasers?”

Pidge shrugged. “I'm just… not used to all this, I guess.”

Allura's eyes softened. “We can fly back to the castle, if you really want to. We can find something else to do—something we'll both enjoy.”

Pidge looked at her blue eyes, quietly pleading: “Please don't.”

Pidge smiled at her. “Nah. Let's get inside door at least—geeze, I forgot how… airy dresses can be!”

As if on cue, another cool breeze blew in between her legs, forcing her to hold her skirt down as she shivered.

Allura chuckled. “At once, milady,” she said, keeping one arm almost entirely straight by her side.

Pidge looped her arm around Allura's, and into the restaurant they went.

It felt weird, to have the roles and positions reversed like this, for Allura to be doing all the “gentleman” roles for their date, be the one looking quite handsome in the white-and-blue three-piece suit she had tailored just for the occasion, and for Pidge to be doing all the “lady” roles, be the one in the lovely, if a little too light and weightless emerald green dress.

But not exactly a _bad_ weird.

The ornate double doors of the restaurant magically opened as they neared, revealing a grand, palatial scene inside:

Cloth-covered tables arranged around a wooden dance floor, an unseen live band playing soothing music, servers in elegant clothes beaming and charming diners before moving about invisible and silent, the whole scene lit up by a grand chandelier in the center with softer, warmer sconces lighting the sides.

The maitre d' smiled as Pidge and Allura walked up. “Ah, her majesty Allura and Lady Pidge—how happy it makes us all to see you here tonight!” they said. “I shall inform the kitchen of your arrival so they may get started on your dinner—and for all our other staff to prepare as well.”

“Prepare for what?” Pidge asked.

The maitre d' grinned as they slipped from their podium. “What her majesty has prepared for you this evening! Please, allow me to show you to your table.”

Pidge turned to Allura. “I suppose I'm not going to get a hint about what's to come?”

Allura smirked at her. “'Now where's the fun in that?'” she said, quoting Pidge.

Pidge chuckled. “Karma, huh…?” she asked as they followed the maitre d' to their table.

“Thankfully, the good kind,” Allura hummed.

Heads turned and conversation stopped as they came close enough to the tables for the diners to see them and recognize their faces. Pidge tried not to be bothered as they gawked at and talked about them, sometimes making no effort at all to keep her from hearing.

She supposed it was inevitable, when you were one of the heroes of the realm, defending it from enemies threatening to tear the very foundations of it apart, when you were dating royalty from one of the most prestigious institutions of the realm, and most of all, when you were wearing a dress after past two years of only ever wearing pants.

They arrived at their table, located in a quiet, secluded corner nowhere near the grand floor-to-ceiling windows of the restaurant.

“So you won't spend the whole night peering out, wondering if there's a sniper aiming at us, or another lovelorn soul waiting to make a suitably dramatic entrance in their attempt to convince me of the sincerity of their love,” Allura explained as she pulled out Pidge's chair for her.

Pidge smiled. “Thanks. That's really thoughtful of you,” she said as she sat down.

Allura beamed. “You're welcome,” she said as she sat down in the chair across her. “I must say, I've found all new depths of respect for you—thinking of, accounting for, and trying find solutions to every last potential problem and issue is _exhausting_ ,” she said, her expression hinting at just how much.

“It can be fun, though, figuring out new ways to do things, or get around problems you thought were going to ruin everything,” Pidge replied.

Allura smiled as she leaned in. “Like what, exactly?” she asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Oh! Well, there was that time when...” Pidge trailed off.

Allura frowned. “Something the matter, Pidge?”

“Do you want to just talk about you, instead?” she looked away. “I'll probably just end up rambling on and on all night...”

Allura reached out and touched her on her arm. “Pidge, believe me: I could listen to you ramble on and on all night about anything, and I would _never_ get tired of the sound of your lovely voice...~”

Pidge felt her face heat up.

Allura settled back into her seat. “Now, you were saying…?”

Pidge nervously adjusted her glasses. “Uh, well, there was that time when I was thinking of a way to add weaponized pyrotechnics to Keith's combat-rig...”

And so she rambled on, talking about how she got the inspiration from the same rock concerts that had inspired the combat-rig's shockwave and resonance mods, going into specifications and formulas in between the much more interesting parts where she kept almost accidentally blowing up Castle Tempest's foundry with rogue fireworks and explosions.

A server came by with a bottle in a bucket of ice; Pidge thought nothing of it until they revealed it was a bottle of Cerea, her favourite brand of soda. She had to stop mid-story story and stare as she watched the green beverage get poured into a champagne glass with the same care, grace, and flair of a bottle of finely aged wine.

Allura playfully raised an eyebrow. “Something the matter, Pidge?” she asked as the waiter filled up her own glass

Pidge chuckled. “No, nothing at all...” she said as she picked up her glass.

They reached out and clinked them together, before they both took a drink.

Pidge made a little noise as she felt the bubbles tickle her nose, Allura snorted and had soda spurt out of her nostrils.

The server kindly picked up her napkin for her as she went into coughing and giggling fit.

“Sorry...” Allura muttered as she coughed a few more times. She smiled. “So, you were saying…?”

Pidge smiled back. “So batch 32 literally blew up in my face. After some time reflecting, I thought maybe Lance could help me with it thanks to their Bond, but _man_ was I wrong...”

Allura put her napkin down, and resumed listening to her every word, until Pidge eventually reached the end of her story.

“… In the end, the laser light show works _much_ better than the pyro in every way, so I had to scrap the project for combat use.”

Allura frowned. “Oh, that's terrible! All your hard work, for nothing...”

Pidge shrugged. “Eh, it's fine! I learned a lot and it was still really fun to work on, aside from almost getting blown up. That's the best part of any project, you know: being knee-deep in it, working out the kinks, testing and retesting, sometimes going back to the drawing board as needed.”

“For you, I don't doubt it, but I think nothing quite beats the pay-off of a plan that goes entirely the way you wanted it to,” Allura hummed.

Pidge was about to reply, until she noticed the music suddenly fading away, the couples dancing bowing out and returned to their tables.

She wondered what could have happened, when the band started all over again with a very, _very_ different tune, lively and harsh, if still played on the same instruments as the classical pieces. She turned to Allura, her face a mix of disbelief and delight as the band played a classical remix of one of Pidge's favourite alternative rock songs.

Allura grinned as she slipped out of her chair and came over to Pidge, bowing as she offered her hand. “Care to dance, milady?”

Pidge looked at her hesitantly. “I do, but… how are we going to dance to _this_?”

Allura chuckled. “Just follow my lead.”

Pidge took her hand, and happily followed her to the center of the dance floor.

Out of habit, she tried to put her hand on Allura's lower back, before she gently grabbed her wrist and guided her to where they should have been as the “lady” in the pair.

“Sorry...” Pidge muttered.

“You can apologize by helping me give these people and dragons a show,” Allura hummed.

And so they did, strutting and gliding about the dance floor, rocking their bodies to the beat with sudden and rough movements, Pidge's skirt whirling all about her as she did all the fancy twirls, tricks, and dips this time.

She wasn't _nearly_ as graceful and fancy as Allura was, with her much longer legs and her years of formal training in all manner of dancing styles beside, but at least it was a much easier affair for the both of them now that the “gentleman” of the pair was taller than the “lady.”

The song hit its crescendo, their feet left the floor as Allura flapped her wings and sent them both airborne; she lifted Pidge up by her waist till they were face-to-face, Pidge wrapped her arms around her shoulders, holding on tight.

They hit the peak of their arc, and for a moment the both of them felt weightless; Pidge and Allura stared into each other's eyes, one amber pair with round pupils, one blue pair with slit pupils and bright flecks of pink, both wordlessly saying the same three words:

“I love you.”

Then, Allura opened her wings out wide, gently gliding back down to the floor just as the music was fading. She gently butted the horns on the front of her head against Pidge's forehead, before Pidge leaned in and brought their lips together.

She thought it quite the shame that they had to make it _just_ a quick but passionate kiss, for all the people and dragons around them.

Allura gently set her back down to the floor, before she took her hand and lead them back to their table, where one of the chefs eagerly waited to show them what was inside the pots and bowls on their table.

“What are we having tonight?” Pidge asked as Allura pulled her chair out for her again.

Allura smiled at the chef as she walked back to her seat. “Shall you do the honours…?”

The chef smiled as they put their hand on the lid of the biggest pot. “Your meal for tonight is a distinct, popular specialty from the southeastern Isles, my home...”

They whipped it off, a delicious, familiar smell filling the air and making Pidge's mouth water.

“Oxtail, cooked in thick, _savoury_ peanut sauce, with Isle cabbage, eggplant, string beans, and young banana flower bud!” The chef began to open the other containers. “Traditionally eaten with a side of white rice, and with sauteed, salted shrimp paste.”

Pidge's eyes widened as the last one was opened. “Woah—this stuff is pretty… _wow,_ that is quite the… aroma!”

Allura looked at her uneasily. “Do you not like it?”

Pidge shook her head. “Just because it's weird doesn't mean it's bad,” she smiled. “Take me for example.”

Allura blinked, before she chuckled. “Indeed...”

“If I may butt in, it is _quite_ delicious and _more_ than worth the initial shock of its powerful presence,” the chef said.

“I'm sure it will be positively _delicious,”_ Allura hummed, licking her lips.

The chef beamed with pride. “Enjoy your meal—and on behalf of the management and we the staff, please, do not worry about the bill: all of us here owe you our lives and our futures, and there is no amount of money that can _ever_ repay that debt.”

They bowed. “May you fly free and keep our skies free forever, beloved Riders of the Storm.”

Allura and Pidge both stared at them as they disappeared into the darkness.

Pidge turned to Allura. “I thought you said you didn't like using the Riders' name to get favours and free stuff,” she said, more curious than angry.

“This is as much a surprise to me as it is for you!” Allura replied, unsure if she should be flattered or bothered.

“Heh...” Pidge smiled. “Guess that means we're all doing _something_ right.”

Allura nodded. “Quite… but for now, shall we get to dinner?” she looked down and blushed. “I was _so nervous_ about this date I completely forgot about lunch...”

“Well you shouldn't have been,” Pidge said as she reached out for the serving spoon, put a generous serving of mostly meat into Allura's bowl. “It's going _great.”_

Allura looked up at her, a smile slowly spreading on her face, before she picked up her utensils and did her best not to rip and tear into her meal like the hungry dragon she was.

Tomorrow, there would be more training, tinkering, and team-building exercises to prepare for the Galra's next attack.

But tonight, they were just a dragon and her rider going out for dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> Pidge and Allura are having a Philippine Dish called “Kare-Kare.” The sauteed, salted shrimp paste is called “bagoong,” and yes, it is _rank_ stuff.
> 
> Fic inspired by Harder to Cover by oneboredjeu: https://youtu.be/znW72XpL14Y


End file.
